The Infidus slammed into the Stone Angel’s side. That impact was followed seconds later by two more as the Burning Star and the Hashbang also crunched into the big frigate. Three sets of boarding parties raced to be the first aboard the Myrkur flagship.

Ferris Pender, the Murray triplets, and the rest of the first boarding party swarmed aboard the Stone Angel directly, using the high forward deck as their entry point. Below, Tavia leapt from the larboard gun deck through a huge rent torn the frigate’s side by the triple impact. Decklan Patrick and the second boarding party followed on her heels.

“Shaw!” Caleb cried, as he pointed to the triple set of fighting tops above. “Take out those riflemen, then join Tavia’s boarding party below! She’ll need you!”

The drake let out a lion’s roar as he headed aloft. Caleb looked to his side, where Zeddicus and his men boarded the Stone Angel further forward. They slowly cleared the deck before them with cutlass and pistol shot. Delacroix had a veritable army of Guardsmen aboard, though they quailed and ran from Captain Vayne as the undead pirate’s skeleton crew stepped aboard the frigate’s forward deck.

Caleb climbed atop the larboard quarterdeck rail. He drew his cutlass to slash one of the lines to the mainsail, which hung slack and badly holed from its spars. Then he leapt from the rail towards a trio of Sea Vipers aboard the Stone Angel.

He knocked down the first cultist who greeted him with the heel of one boot as he swung aboard. Then he blocked the swing of the next with his cutlass. He put the man down with a shot from the second of his three pistols.

Caleb dropped to one knee as he dodged another swing, using his Pugilism skill to hurl his spent pistol. The heavy wooden butt caved in the forehead of the third man. A fourth, this one a Guardsman, stepped into the gap to challenge him.

Before the man could do more than raise his sword, he collapsed with an uff! as a body landed on him from above. Caleb looked up to see Shaw as the griffin leapt from one fighting top to the next, battering the men stationed above with his wings or hurling them off with a clack of his beak.

Caleb hadn’t the time to draw his third pistol before two more Myrkur ran up to challenge him. He slew one, though the man’s sword slipped through Caleb’s guard, biting into his thigh. Caleb felt the dull pain, the drip of warm blood soaking his trouser leg.

He ignored the wound, though he limped as he advanced. With a series of slashes, he backed the second man towards the railing. The man slipped on the bloody deck, swinging wildly until Caleb’s blade found his heart.

Suddenly, he found himself fighting alongside the Pirate King. The big man had cleared a path, hacking down all before him with a stout, bloodstained cutlass. They were both breathing hard, and both bore wounds. Zeddicus held his left arm stiff, a pair of deep cuts leaking crimson and staining his black fearnought even darker.

“Fate’s thrown us together again,” Zeddicus huffed. “Are you badly hurt?”

“There’s enough of me left to keep fighting,” Caleb replied. “And you?”

“Damn arm’s gone numb. But my sword arm is still fresh.” The Pirate King muttered a curse before adding, “Glad you’re at my side, though. Damn good decision of mine to let you win that riddling contest.”

“I won that fair and square!” Caleb shot back, without heat. “What say we finish this job together, Commodore?”

Just ahead of them, standing amidships and ordering his last remaining men into action, stood a broad-chested, ruddy-faced man. That face was framed by a coppery beard and wide-brimmed black hat. A jeweled scabbard and a pair of heavy knee-length boots gleamed in the sunlight.

“Delacroix!” Zeddicus shouted. “Come and face me at last, old friend!”

The man’s head came around. His trademark scowl appeared as he strode forward, obvious to the combat that still swirled around him.

“Once again, old friend!” he said, with a lunatic laugh. “I see you want to end your last life early. Can’t blame you. Dying in front of a computer screen with your face submerged in kebab sauce isn’t the best of ends, now is it?”

The Pirate King’s face darkened at that taunt. His death upon coming to Avalon hadn’t been any more noble than that. But before he could answer, Caleb spoke up. He needed no Expert Taunting skill to know how to needle Delacroix.

“It’s no more ignoble than being electrocuted,” he said. “Burnt alive and turned to dust. Or did your men not tell you? That’s how your friend Ravencrow met her end. Screaming like a little girl.”

Now Delacroix’s face darkened with anger. He pulled his sword from its glittering scabbard with a snick. The blade glowed a venomous green.

“I’ll have your tongue for–”

The man’s voice died in his throat as the fighting died away around him. Myrkur Guardsmen and sailors dove over the side rails as the seven-foot-tall figure of Captain Vayne came to stand off to one side. Delacroix halted his forward movement, eyes rapt on the hellish figure.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“This would be my other ally,” Zeddicus said smoothly. “And your end, Eric. Take him, Captain Vayne!”

The pair of scarlet pinpricks deep within the undead eye sockets flared a bit, like a fire that has been fed a new scrap of fuel. He uttered one word.

“Nay.”

“Nay? What do you mean, nay?” Zeddicus flared. “Kill this man!”

“Ye may ask me to complete an honorable task, ‘ere my crew and I are set free,” Vayne replied, in his deep, unearthly voice. “Ye gave me this task.”

Zeddicus flinched as he heard his own voice come from between Vayne’s undead lips.

I want you to help me vanquish the Myrkur fleet.

“This task is done,” Vayne said. “Ye may not ask me for a second service.”

“Hellfire and damnation,” Zeddicus cursed. “Fine. We’ll do this the hard way.”

Whip-fast, the Pirate King drew a pistol and squeezed off a shot.

Delacroix swung his cutlass across his body, as if flicking something away. His blade glowed green as the pistol’s lead projectile hit it with a spaaang! The man smirked and began to advance once more.

“Damn fine magic he’s got there,” Zeddicus murmured to Caleb, as he brought his blade up.

“Agreed,” Caleb said. “He pulled this same trick when I escaped from Irongrasp.”

“Then it looks like a duel’s in the offing.” the Pirate King let out a curse. “We’re wounded and winded, while he’s fresh. If you have any more rabbits to pull out of your pirate’s hat, now would be a good time.”

Three more steps, and Delacroix was on them. A blow from his cutlass drove Zeddicus back two steps. Caleb moved in, but a lightning-fast move from his opponent forced him to duck. The Lord High Captain’s blade sizzled as it flashed through the air, lopping off one of plumes atop Caleb’s hat.

Zeddicus lunged forward, only to receive a parry that nearly flung the older pirate to his knees. The Pirate King staggered on his feet. Before the Myrkur leader could move in for the killing blow, Caleb pushed forward. His blade met Delacroix’s in mid-swing, purple and green magic hissing and throwing of sparks.

That blade’s the key to his abilities, Caleb realized, with a sick shock. I didn’t have anything to use to stop it the first time around. What about now? What do I have?

Caleb danced back another step, then two. He felt the larboard railing at his back. Out of room, out of time.

His brain hit upon the solution out of desperation. One more Craft with Iron spell he thought he’d never use.

Spalling Damage: This spell causes breaking or cracking of metal objects at a distance.

“You’re nothing, worm!” Delacroix taunted him. “You’re nothing, even with your magic!”

Caleb invoked the spell as he pulled his remaining pistol. He took aim at Delacroix’s sword and squeezed the trigger. The blade activated its magic and blocked the incoming steel ball.

A keening sound came from Delacroix’s sword. It wavered in the Lord High Captain’s hand like a tuning fork.

With a kreesh! the blade shattered to pieces.

“And you’re nothing without your sword,” Caleb shot back.

Zeddicus lunged in from the side. His blade slipped under Delacroix’s ribs, piercing the man through the torso. The leader of the Myrkur looked back at Caleb, shock and confusion registering in his dark eyes. Shakily, Delacroix dropped the broken sword’s hilt and went for his pistols.

Caleb thrust his sword forward. The point of his cutlass went through the cultist’s forearm and pinned it to his chest. Then he pushed the point home, transfixing the man between his blade and that of the Pirate King’s.

“Bastard!” Delacroix gasped, with his last breath. “How could you…the two of you…”

“Goodbye, old friend,” Zeddicus said, as the Lord High Captain slumped to the deck. “This pays back a lot, Eric. Not everything, not by a long shot, but it’s a start.”

Caleb looked around to see that the few remaining Myrkur on deck had thrown down their weapons and surrendered. Then two more came flying out of the entryway to the aft passage below, landing on the deck with pained grunts. Shaw emerged, with Tavia and Sienna in tow. Each had been spattered with blood, but none seemed badly hurt.

Zeddicus turned to the still silently-watching Captain Vayne.

“I can’t believe that you just stood there for all that!” the Pirate King fumed. “If I had died, then who would have released you from your eternal torment?”

The scarlet gleams that passed for Vayne’s eyes glinted, perhaps with amusement. It was impossible to truly tell.

“Go ye and weep,” Vayne said, in his inhuman voice.

“Right,” Zeddicus said, before muttering under his breath. “Not much change for sixpence from you, is there? Bloody cursed pirate captains, what’re you to do with ‘em?”

“You can’t do much,” Caleb answered. “Except to free them.”

The Pirate King nodded. He held his palm out towards Vayne. The damned Captain did the same, turning his hand over so that their palms were less than an inch apart.

Zeddicus’ voice boomed as he made his pronouncement.

“I, Theodore Zeddicus of the Pirate Brethren, the Pirate King of Boruta and carrier of the Mark of Sacramentum, do hereby release Captain Halton Nine-Fingers Vayne and the rest of his crew from their bondage. I declare their broken oath fulfilled, and their torment ended!”

A blinding flash lit up the air around them.

Instead of the dull boom of a cannon or the crack of lightning, Caleb heard the gentle chime of bells. The chime grew in intensity, filling the air even as the flash faded away, leaving everyone on deck blinking or tearing up.

Captain Vayne still stood before them.

Only now, he stood a foot shorter. His body remained lanky and well-muscled, but fully human. A rough face with a stubborn jaw and wrinkles from staring into the sunsets at sea looked back at them with something akin to unexpected relief.

The undead Pirate King said nothing as his form slowly vanished, blowing away in the breeze in a swirl of golden dust. All around them, on the ships scattered or wrecked throughout Boruta harbor, more swirls of golden dust took flight. The Burning Star sagged as it melted gelatinously back into seawater, sending a cargo of dust, moss, and barnacles down to the bottom.

Somewhat belatedly, Caleb’s Quest Window updated.

Expert Adventurer's-Level Quest:

Vanquish the Myrkur fleet in battle alongside the Pirate Brethren of Boruta and the undead Pirate Captain Halton Vayne. STATUS: COMPLETE.

“Lir and Danu be praised,” Zeddicus breathed.

“Aye to that,” Caleb agreed. “After all, it’s not every day – even on Avalon – that you get to see a damned soul released from Hell.”